Smile
by padfoot's prose
Summary: "The moments when my good times start to fade - you make me smile." A series of fluffy oneshots to make you smile. Canon, variety of couples. Inspired by Smile, Uncle Kracker
1. You Make Me Smile Like The Sun

****

**A/N: This is a collection of oneshots based off the chorus of the song _Smile_ by Uncle Kracker. Basically, a few feel-good short stories, featuring all your favourite Twilight couples. Can be any pairing (mostly canon), any era, any genre. There are twelve lines in the song's chorus, which means twelve chapters.**

**I know this story is under Edward/Bella for the pairing, and if they're the ones you like, go to chapter 4, which is about them.**

**I am desperately in need of ideas for couples, even the most obvious ones that I might've forgotten, because I'm having trouble thinking of enough to do the entire chorus. If you have any requests for couples that you'd like me to write about (and possibly the line/s that you think would match them, if you know the song) then please tell me!**

**Hope you enjoy this!**

**

* * *

**

___Pairing: Jacob/Renesmee_

___Era: post-BD_

_POV: Renesmee, 1st person_

___Lyrics: You make me smile like the sun_

He's my sun. It's that simple.

The biggest, brightest, most important thing in my sky, shining gold and white from the never-ending blue depths of infinity. Gold for his courage, his unyielding loyalty, and white for his love – for _our_ pure, simple love.

I know Mum still finds it hard sometimes when she sees how I look at him and how he looks at me. She doesn't understand, or maybe she understands it all too well, and that's what scares her. She knows what it feels like to have Jacob Black as a vital part of your life, and she knows what it's like when he leaves you. What it's like when he deserts you, leaving a gaping hole where half your heart once was.

The difference is that it was only half her heart that belonged to him. For me, he grasps all of the tiny fragments of my love in the palm of his hand.

So I guess that's why he's my sun. Not only does he warm me up, light me up, fill me up with his rays – he holds me where I am. Just like how the sun holds the Earth in place, he too holds me. Without him, my life would be chaos. Because without a sun, what's to keep a planet in orbit?


	2. Fall Out Of Bed

_Pairing: Quil Jnr./Claire_

_Era: Post-BD_

_POV: Claire, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Fall out of bed_

I'd love to say that I didn't fall for him. I'd love to say that it was a sensible and well thought-out move. I'd love to say it was choreographed to be graceful and beautiful, like all the other perfect moments when two people fall in love. I'd love to lie.

But I can't. Because, let's face it, what could be more graceful and beautiful and perfect than the fantastic disorder of falling for someone? Falling so hard and fast that you know you'll just keep falling and falling for the rest of time, that every second you spend with him will just make you love him even more?

That's the ultimate type of love, I think –the type that means you're constantly falling, further and further, deeper and deeper, more and more in love.

At least, that was perfect for me. For us. Honestly, I think Quil just thought it was the most amusing way to fall in love. Then again, what sort of guy wouldn't laugh if, when he declared his love for a girl, she promptly fell out of her bed and landed flat on her face on the floor, managing to bruise her cheek on a stray shoe and chip a tooth on the floorboards in the process? It was the imperfection of it – the anti-romantic-ness of that moment and many others – that really cemented our relationship.

I was always falling. Quil was always catching me.

* * *

**I just have to say: WELL DONE SPAIN! Fantastic game and a great first win of a World Cup final! They deserved to win, showing that when a great teams plays a great game the right way, they can't be beaten. Also, because the commentators really should've given a whole lot more credit to Casillas (the Spanish Goalie), I'm going to acknowledge him here. He played an amazing game, saving so many really difficult shots and dealing with the pressure of an upcoming penalty shoot-out against one of the world's best strikers. At least his team recognised his skill - he totally deserved to be the first one to hold the trophy.**

**Okay, rant over.**


	3. Sing Like A Bird

_Pairing: Angela/Ben_

_Era: Anytime_

_POV: Angela, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Sing like a bird_

There are thousands of things for a girl to love about a guy. His looks, his intelligence, his sense of humour. And sometimes, just sometimes, you can love him for the simple reason that he loves you. That, despite every single one of your flaws and insecurities, he's still happy to sit there, expression calm, as you cry your eyes out about a college rejection letter or a great-uncle's death or a terrible thing that a girl at school said to you that you wish you could forget.

In Ben's case, it was the singing that did it. His awful, wonderful singing.

He didn't do it a lot, only when he knew that nothing else would cheer me up. He'd gather me into his arms, pull me close so I could feel his heartbeat, and just sing. I don't even know if it was a real song, or just one he made up on the spot. The tune was inconsistent, the rhythm was all wrong and the words were ludicrous, but none of that mattered. What mattered was that, every time without fail, his singing would bring a smile to my face. Sometimes I'd even join in for the second verse.

And that was it, right there – that was why I loved him. Because he didn't care that neither of us could sing well, that when he'd cheered me up enough to join in, my voice made the song twice as bad. He loved everything about me: my tears and my smiles, my dreams and my nightmares, my flats and my sharps. And I loved that. I loved him for giving me that love.


	4. Dizzy In My Head

_Pairing: Edward/Bella_

_Era_:_ Post-BD_

_POV: Bella, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Dizzy in my head_

You know you love a guy when, ninety years after your first kiss, just the sight of him makes your head spin.

The scent of his breath intoxicates you, the sound of his voice enchants you, and the _taste_ of his lips... well, it does scary things, too. Earth-shattering, world-changing, mind-blowing things.

So you can understand that, when Edward gets home from a hunt, only being granted two hours alone with him is never enough. I mean, I love my daughter. I love my sisters and my brothers and my new and old parents. But none of that, _none _of it, is enough to tear me away from him after so long spent apart.

Ninety years later, we're still like two halves of a whole, the past and future of two existences, coming together for the right now. Every moment of it is still like a dream come true, and the reality that there will never be a day when I wake from it is as terrifying as it is amazing.

I'm scared of waking up, one day. I'm scared of opening my eyes and seeing my blue walls at Charlie's house, feeling the cool breeze on delicate human skin, living the life that might've been if I'd never found Edward.

But, for now, as long as my head is reeling at the mere sight of so much perfection squeezed into one guy, I can be glad with this reality. I don't care if it is a dream. Just as long as I never, ever wake up from it.


	5. Spin Like A Record

****

**It's funny, cos this is the first story that no one's really reading that I've ever actually wanted to keep writing! Usually, I give up on my stories after the first few chapters if they have hardly any reviews.**

**Thankfully, my single, solitary reviewer did request/suggest a couple, and, being a good person (who clearly is considered to be a terrible writer), I wrote this. So this chapter is dedicated to vanessaxo. Honestly, I think only having one review makes me appreciate it that much more.**

**

* * *

**

_Pairing: Kate/Garrett_

_Era: Breaking Dawn, end of Chapter 38: Power_

_POV: Kate_

_Lyrics: Spin like a record_

_There was another beat of silence._

_"__Of all the rotten luck," Stefan murmured._

_And then it hit._

My head was reeling, relief and joy and annoyance and anger and sadness and happiness all pounding in my mind, fighting to be the first to break free. Around me, I was vaguely aware of cheers and screams – laughter, hugging, kissing, holding and some just staring, like I was, lost as to what to do and what to feel first. I could hear the wolves' hearts pounding and little Nessie's, galloping along with them, as if we'd all just escaped a terrible fate. Which, in hindsight, I suppose we had.

"Kate!"

I looked up to see Garrett beside me, also not having moved in those first few seconds of celebration. Maybe he felt like he couldn't move, like I did. His eyes were fixed on mine, waiting for me to say or do something. But there was just too much to do, and it seemed like there was so little time to do it. So little time in the post-victory euphoria to say and do all the things that had to be said and done. Things that can only be said and done at times like these, where you can be so sure that everyone around you is feeling as fantastic as you are.

A time when I could be sure that Garrett, still standing motionless beside me, still looking at me his eyes boring into mine, was feeling exactly what I was feeling. Wasn't he?

"Garrett, I-" I managed to choke out, not sure what to say next and not even sure if he'd heard me over the noise around us.

And then I was flying.

It took me a moment to realise that he'd picked me up, his arms around me and his head buried in my shoulder as he spun me around in the air. I felt his lips press against my neck before he deposited me back onto the ground, lifting his head up to smile at me. Deciding then and there which emotion was the most important, I smiled back.

"You want to do something crazy?" I asked him casually.

He shrugged, "I said I'd follow you anywhere, so I guess I have to say yes."

I grinned. I knew he'd put me back on the ground, but inside my head, the world was still whirling. The difference was, this time, I couldn't have cared less.

"Marry me."


	6. Crazy On A Sunday Night

_Pairing: Emmett/Rosalie_

_Era: Any time_

_POV: Rosalie, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Crazy on a Sunday night_

I sometimes wonder how different my life might have been if I'd been born later. Just forty or fifty years later, enough that I could have lived in Bella or Nessie's era. Lived the first few normal years of their lives, instead of mine.

I think I would've been a party girl.

One of those fantastic girls who goes out every night, but still keeps her marks at school up. Who can be a flirt one second and a nerd the next. The type of girl who knows exactly what people expect of her, and delivers every time.

That's not to say that I wouldn't still be human. I'd suffer heartbreak and heartache. I'd have sex with the bad guys, at least until I figured out that they were never worth it. I'd be the type of who fools around with parents or teachers or doctors – people who I shouldn't be interested in, but am. People who can show me what it means to be different from the others my age.

I know I would've stood out. Not in the way I did in my real youth – standing out as a rare beauty, a jewel in the crown – but in a more _real_ way. I think I would've been appreciated more.

My strengths weren't meant for the era I was born in. My desires were too liberal, too unlike what everyone else felt. My dreams and ambitions were scoffed. Yes, I wanted good money and good looks and a good reputation, but alongside my innate desire for those was the startling knowledge that they weren't enough. They were what I should've wanted, and more than that, they were what I expected to get. The possibility of ending up poor, alone and ugly never struck me, never even entered the most secret, insecure corners of my mind.

And that utter confidence– vanity, as some might call it - in my prospects and my ability to get the future I wanted would have set me apart these days. If I'd been able to truly use it, truly express it, I could've been great.

Then there's Emmett.

A party girl would never have fallen in love with Emmett.

He's too kind, too crazy, too completely and utterly perfect for a girl like me. He keeps me sane – literally. He keeps me from wallowing too much in my regrets. I have a lot of regrets, I guess, things I wish I'd done or seen or thought of before my life was so cruelly finished. But Emmett isn't one of them.

I needed the perspective of my time – the upbringing that I had – to make me love a man like Emmett. If I'd been a party girl, I never would've been able to stop, to abandon the fun, abandon the life where I stood out and could get anything and anyone I wanted. If I'd been given the free-reign that a modern upbringing would have given me, Emmett would just have been another speck in my life – another guy, another victim.

I love that, somehow, by some ironic and sometimes painful twist of fate, Emmett ended up being my saviour instead of my prey.

I used to think that God hated me. That He offered me all these things – the money, the looks, the reputation – and then pulled them out from under my nose when I was mere inches from getting them. Or, worse still, that He gave me Emmet just to tease me, to say, 'This is what you should've been looking for the whole time, and because you weren't, now you can have him, but none of the rest'. God gave me the man of my dreams, but he took away everything else that I'd ever dreamed of having.

But now... well, now I'm not so sure. Maybe giving me Emmett wasn't a punishment. Maybe it was a gift. A gift designed for me and only me. Not for Rosie Hale – the party girl who had it all. But for Rosalie Hale – the girl who lost it all.


	7. You Make Me Dance Like A Fool

_Pairng: Charlie/Renee_

_Era: Pre-break up_

_POV: Charlie, 1st person_

_Lyrics: You make me dance like a fool_

It is a well-known fact that I can't dance. I just can't. I'm not going to blame it on genetics or laziness or lack of trying. It's just a fact, one of those things that I wish could be different but isn't.

So, I have to ask, is it really fair that – with full knowledge of my inability to move to music – my fiancé has decided that we are going to dance at our wedding? By ourselves. On a proper dance floor. With all of our guests watching.

No. No, it's not fair at all.

And I suppose I should probably tell her that. If I can complain internally, I really should complain externally, seeing as honesty is the best policy and communication is key in a relationship and all that. But, truthfully, I don't want to ruin it for her. Renee has big dreams about this wedding of ours – the princess dress, the masses of flowers, the absolutely perfect day and location. She's gone to so much trouble to ensure that the entire day will be perfect, from searching the Internet late into the night to find the least rainy day of the year here in Forks to ordering the dress from a shop all the way over in New York, just to make sure it's exactly right.

I don't want to ruin her perfect day with my decidedly imperfect dancing. That wouldn't be fair to her.

Love is about fairness. More than it's about honesty and communication and the actual love, it's about achieving that balance, making those compromises, sacrificing things that I want for things that we want. Without balance, love doesn't work. There needs to be some sort of common ground, some common desires and ideas, some common vision for the future that the two of you will share. Without that, without those basic things in common, even true love would never work out.

So, I guess this dancing thing is my sacrifice. While Renee sacrifices her family and the place where she grew up – the sunny city near the beach that she's always called home – I'm sacrificing this: my reputation as a sensible, serious person, who can do normal things (such as dancing), with easy grace and poise. It's not much to give up, really. They all would've figured it out soon enough anyway.

I just wish I could sacrifice as much as she is. I wish I had as much to give up as she does. I wish she wasn't the only thing important enough for me to make a difference by giving up.


	8. Forget How To Breathe

_Pairing: Carlisle/Esme_

_Era: Pre-Twilight_

_POV: Esme, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Forget how to breathe_

_

* * *

_

_Breathe. Just breathe._

Gasp.

_Good, now take another breath. Don't give up yet, don't stop breathing._

Gasp.

_Well done, now one more. Just one more breath and the pain will go away._

Gasp.

_That's all. That's it. You did it, Esme. You did it._

Scream.

The scream came when the venom reached my heart. Carlisle was right in what he said, after that moment, I no longer needed to breathe. But I wanted to. I wanted to go back to the pain of inhaling – breathing in through pierced lungs and crippled ribcage – because it was nothing, _nothing_, compared to the pain of the burning.

Of course, the burning disappeared eventually. It faded away as my humanity seeped from my veins, Carlisle's venom mending my broken limbs and organs. All of them but my heart. Even through the burning, the ache in my heart stayed constant. It wasn't as painful, but it hurt me a hundred times more. It was during those three days of burning that I discovered the true difference between pain and hurt. The venom was painful. But the hole in my chest where my baby should have been hurt the most.

I remember opening my eyes, feeling the sharpness of my new thirst in my throat, knowing that, somehow, I'd survived the burning. I'd gotten through it and emerged into a new type of life. Was this Heaven? I wasn't sure. Not until the angel appeared. Then I knew it. I knew I'd died. And I was _grateful_.

Carlisle stood before me, not needing a golden harp or wings to prove his divinity. I knew I'd seen him before, but that was through the eyes of a child, a child who knew nothing about true love and beauty and passion. Compassion radiated from his body like a halo, surrounding him and bathing me in the light of his complete and utter goodness.

"I'm sorry, Esme," he whispered to me, true pity and sorrow in his somehow familiar tone. "I'm so sorry for doing this to you."

I looked up at him silently from the bed I lay on, still attempting to comprehend how I had managed to bring such a man with me to Heaven.

"Are you real?" I asked. "Is this real?"

He smiled tiredly at my awestruck words.

"Yes. It's all real. You can breathe now. It won't hurt now."

I sighed, letting the last of my human breath leave my body. Then, meeting Carlisle's eyes – the eyes of the man who saved me, the man who healed me, the man who gave me this Heaven – I inhaled again.

_Breathe_, he'd said back then_. Just breathe._

As this new, cleaner, healthier, more wonderful air filled my lungs, I smiled. With Carlisle in my life, there'd always be someone to remind me to breathe.


	9. Shine Like Gold

_Pairing: Alice/Jasper_

_Era: The famous diner scene_

_POV: Alice, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Shine like gold_

The breath of wind from the opening door was my first clue that someone had arrived.

From the outside, the diner looked run-down and dilapidated. You could look through the stained windows and see shapes lurking by the bar, too lumpy and irregular to be able to tell any more about them. Barely enough light seeped in through the windows for there to be any need for people to lurk in shadows in the corners – the whole room was shadows. Humans tended to avoid the place, crossing the street so they didn't have to walk past its black oak door. It was for that reason precisely that vampires liked it. At this diner, we were just as weird as everyone else. No one asked questions, no one gave answers. It was perfect.

No one else looked up at the sound of the opening door. Even the man who'd entered seemed eager to be ignored. He kept his hat low and his head bowed as he closed the door behind him, shutting out the whistling wind and bucketing rain that had chosen this night to ravage the streets Philadelphia .

I could smell him from my stool at the counter, the sweet scents of honey and pineapple mixed with something tangier, more dangerous. I liked it, the sweet-and-sour smell. It was the smell of adventure. The smell of the future.

I hopped off my stool and walked towards him, trying to move slowly but unable to hide my excitement. This was the moment I'd been seeing for my whole life. This was the moment where this strange half-life of mine could really begin to be lived. This was the man that would be living it with me.

He looked up, sensing my approach, and for the first time ever, I got to truly see the man who it was my destiny to love. His hair was longish and dark-blonde, stuck to his head from the rain outside. His body was faintly muscular, making him much larger and taller than me, with long limbs that he held stiffly by his side, as if he'd been taught posture in a military school. His lips were full and an unhealthy dark, purplish colour, matching the bags under his eyes.

Yet, as I took all this in, I realised that something was wrong. This man wasn't the one from my visions. Not at all. In my visions, I'd seen the same blonde hair, the same tall, sculpted body, the same face that could have belonged to a god, but this man's eyes – his dark, piercing crimson eyes – weren't the eyes of the man I'd come to love. My Jasper's eyes were the most beautiful amber, shining like gold.

The man still stared at me, not sure whether to be scared or not. I let a beat of silence pass between us as my indecision grew. Was this the wrong man? Had all that waiting been for nothing?

Another vision swept across my mind.

No. Of course I wasn't wrong. This was still my Jasper.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," I told him with a small smile.

He paused for another second, another flood of visions sprinting through my head as he tried to decide how to respond to me.

Then, the future cemented. Our fate became definite, the intertwining of our lives now so inevitable that it seemed a waste to wait for him to speak.

"I'm sorry ma'am."


	10. Buzz Like A Bee

_Pairing: Laurent/Irina_

_Era: New Moon, during Bella's depressed stage_

_POV: Laurent, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Buzz like a bee_

The meadow was empty, just like the last time I'd come. The smell of the vampire and human girl had almost faded completely, so much time had passed since they been here. I wondered why they'd stopped coming.

Despite its emptiness, there was still a certain pleasantness to the clearing. The buzzing of bees as they moved between flowers, the calls of birds hiding in the woods, the rustling of leaves as a light breeze swept across the land.

And my Irina, laying in the thick emerald grass.

Her strange golden eyes were closed, shutting me out from her sweet soul. Her face was entirely still, expressionless, keeping the thoughts that ran errant through her mind a secret from the world. Her hair was fanned out around her head, the silver-blonde tresses sparkling like jewels, matching her skin's slight glitter in the afternoon sun.

She was beautiful.

"We should go, Laurent," she said, her eyes still closed.

I glanced away from her, not wanting to refuse her, but unable to quash my curiosity. Why would the boy have stopped coming here? Victoria was so sure of his love for that human girl – sure enough that she still plotted to kill her – and yet, from what I could tell, neither vampire nor human had been to this place in months. This place was special to them, Victoria had assured me. Surely they should have been here.

"Laurent." Irina's voice was stronger this time, and she'd opened her eyes, sitting up to hold my gaze to hers. "We should go," she repeated. "There's nothing for us here, and my sisters are expecting us back home."

I nodded. She was right. There was nothing for me here. Nothing for Victoria. The human girl and her vampire had gone, just as I'd warned they would. That boy would never have left his mate here, vulnerable and unprotected. Not while knowing that Victoria was still at large.

Sighing, I moved closer to Irina, extending my hand to pull her up to me. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to be the one to break the news of her revenge's departure.

Irina's fingers touched my face, tracing my features gently, caressing my skin.

"What's on your mind?" she whispered to me, her beautiful eyes full of concern.

I circled my arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer and inhaling her flowery scent.

"Nothing," I promised her. "Just you."

A delicate smile crept onto her face, and I lifted my hand to trace her lips. Her gaze faltered and she looked down, embarrassed.

"We should go home," she murmured again, her tone unconvincing.

I lifted her chin up so she could see my face. "Anything for you," I vowed.


	11. The Thought Of You Can Drive Me Wild

_Pairing: Sam/Emily_

_Era:__ Post-BD_

_POV: Sam, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

When I look at my wife, I feel a lot of things:

Anger at myself when I see the scar on her face.

Pride when I see the curve of her stomach, pregnant with our baby.

Lust when I see her body, the perfect angles and planes of her tall, dark form.

Jealousy when I see her sleeping – a vision of beauty and tranquillity – a small smile on her lips as she dreams; her escape from our world of strains and sacrifices.

Power when I hold her in my arms, knowing that a single move could shatter her, but that it would also shatter me and my world.

Joy when she smiles, laughing quietly at a joke that only the two of us understand.

Love when she looks at me, meeting my eyes and telling me with a single glance that I am everything to her, just as she is everything to me.

And, sometimes, all of them at once. Every one of my emotions raging through my mind, fighting for dominance as I lay in bed with my Emily, the heat from my body keeping her warm, and the feel of her body making my skin tingle with sparks of fire. My eyes are closed and she's asleep, but just thinking of her – knowing she's there beside me – is enough to make the emotions boil over. So I hold her recklessly closer, wondering if she knows she drives me wild.


	12. Oh You Make Me Smile

_Pairing: Alice/Jasper_

_Era: Anytime_

_POV: Jasper, 1st person_

_Lyrics: Oh, you make me smile_

The first time I felt love, I didn't know what it was. I remember the moment with such a clarity that I can't help but hope that, even then, I had some inkling of the feeling's significance.

When I first felt love, I thought it might be anger – so powerful and fierce, almost brutal at times. But, no, I was wrong. Anger could never taste so sweet .

I thought it might be joy – that same feeling that came from Jane as she watched her army tear apart another pack of newborns, knowing that we were going to win. But, no, I was still wrong. That fatal joy had never felt so pure.

Then I got desperate in my confusion, and stupidly thought it must be hate – passionate, sometimes timid and sometimes strong, always lurking there with the menace of power. But, no, I couldn't have been more wrong. Hate had never, ever been anything like love.

It was the startling expression on Peter's face as he put himself between me and Charlotte that the understanding dawned on me. This wasn't a feeling that I could control. It wasn't one I could try to remove or try to tame. All it was, was a feeling. Something so deep and so innately _human_, that it should have been irrelevant to me. But it wasn't.

I was staggered by love, the first time I encountered it.

I was frozen to the spot, unable to comprehend Peter's expression, Peter's stance, the feeling pouring so freely from every pore of Peter's body that I should have been drowning in it, as he was. Only I wasn't. Because, back then, I didn't understand love. Back then, I didn't truly know what love was.

Still, I was kind enough – or possibly it wasn't out of kindness, but out of a fleeting moment of morality – to let Peter take his Charlotte and go. I saw no reason to keep him there. And, my vision clouded by the strength of his love, I saw no reason to kill the girl. Just because I didn't understand the feeling then doesn't mean I didn't fall victim to it. My ability to feel Peter's love for Charlotte was what made me let her live that night. Not compassion, not kindness, not humanity – nothing that came from the dark core of my body – but love. _Peter's_ love.

After that moment, I thought I'd never feel love again. And I was glad. I didn't miss that confusion, that unpredictability, that danger. What Jane gave me – lust – was something I could comprehend. What Peter and Charlotte had shown me – love – was not something I wanted to have to face.

Then Alice came.

And, as I entered the darkened diner, it was as if a beacon that had been evading me for all my life suddenly broke through the haze. The feeling that I had been fearing – actively avoiding – for all those years hit me with so much strength that I couldn't escape it. I still can't escape it.

I'm still scared of love. That possessiveness, that power, that passion. The way I need Alice and the way she needs me. That type of co-dependence goes against everything my life has ever taught me about limits and everything being finite.

But, I can't help the way I feel about her. That's the strangest thing about love. No matter how long I've been feeling it for, no matter how surrounded I am by it – I have still never managed to comprehend it. All I know is that it's worth it; worth the bits of it that feel like anger, the bits that feel like joy and the bits that feel like hatred.

Because when the beacon of Alice's love landed on me, I did something that I'd never done before – I felt hope. I smiled.

* * *

**:)**


End file.
